Page 89 of A Storybook Wedding

She rubs her forehead. “I just want all my girls to be happy.”

“Can I be honest?” I ask.

“Of course.”

I inhale, willing myself to be bold enough to say this thing that’s weighed so heavily on me since high school. “You never made me feel like you truly wanted me to be happy. I always felt like all you wanted was for me to become a wife and mother and that unless I achieved those particular milestones, I would always be a disappointment to you.”

Her face twists up.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Mom,” I continue. “I’m just telling you how I felt.”

She takes a breath and bites her lip, nodding slightly. After an awkward pause, she finally speaks. “I never meant to do that to you, honey.”

“But you see it, right? All the excitement you’d pour into Anna, Melanie, and Jamie—their weddings, their pregnancies, their kids? How could I ever really be enough for you if I didn’t bring those critical pieces to the table? Like, if all I did was get a good job that I liked and that made me happy, how could that possibly make you proud of me?”

“Sweetheart, I’ve always been proud of you.”

Tears spring to my eyes. “Not as proud as you are of them.”

“Oh, Cecily.” She rubs her forehead, losing herself in thought. “Did you know that when I was a girl, I wanted to be a veterinarian?”

“What?” I try to think back. Did she ever tell me that? I shake my head. “I don’t think you ever said anything about that.”

“Well, I did. I loved animals. But my parents—your grandparents—drilled it into your aunts and me that our job was to find husbands. It was definitely a different time back then, but I remember being sad about not being able to go to college. I thought I was doing better by my girls by making sure you all got the chance to go to college and study whatever made you happy.”

“But a degree is only good if you use it. Anna wanted to be an architect. Melanie wanted to produce music. Jamie wanted to be a trainer. Now all they do is raise kids.”

“Yes, but, Cecily, they can always go back later and pursue those dreams when their babies are grown up enough not to need them anymore.”

“It will be too late then,” I argue.

“You don’t know that. All I wanted was for you and your sisters to have options. But I’m still the product of my upbringing, and I have three sisters of my own who all were raised the same way. Family first. Kids, holidays, a happy and safe home—that was the job we were raised to do. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough. I just tried to do better for you girls than my parents did for me.”

I let that sink in. It definitely offers a different perspective. I wipe my cheeks.

“I love you, Cecily. I always wanted you to be happy.”

I nod. “I love you too.”

“And you’re happy, right? With the writing and the library?”

My lips form an involuntary smile. “I am.”

“Then that’s all I could ever ask for.”

Huh. It’s a revelation, and I’m overwhelmed by a feeling I can’t quite describe. But before I can put my finger on it, she continues.

“So you and Nate are dating?”

“We’re in a fight at the moment, but yes.”

“That’s kind of funny, if you think about it.”

“What is?”

“You’re dating your husband.”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I know,” I say. “We’ve joked about it too.”

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